


to find a home

by merthurxmalec



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, ITS ALL SPOILERS, M/M, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED IT, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), i really don't know how to tag this, its just angst tbh, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 04:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18684532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merthurxmalec/pseuds/merthurxmalec
Summary: SPOILERS FOR AVENGERS ENDGAME!!!!“Steve?” the voice comes and oh god, Steve knows that voice. Knows it so well, because he has been hearing it in his head every day for five years.“Tony,” he whispers, and everything slots into place.Of course, it is Tony.It could only ever be Tony.~or alternatively: Steve finds out what he has always been missing.





	to find a home

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [to make a home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18599161) by [thisissirius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius). 



> this is inspired by 'to make a home' by thisissirius. Thanks for letting me use your idea and write my own piece! If you guys haven't already, please go and read their fic now!! It is truly amazing. 
> 
> un-beta'd as usual, and written in about 2 hours because I really really dont want to be writing my essay for administrative law :(

In all honesty, Steve had every intention of never going back.

 

It isn’t that he hasn’t made his peace with it, because he has. Waking up in the future had been daunting, had filled him up with such incredible pain that sometimes, in the early days, Steve could scarcely make himself get up in the morning, nor could he make himself go to sleep at night.

 

After waking up, and even after the Battle of New York, Steve was nothing but a ghost of the past roaming the world aimlessly. He was seeing things, but not believing, not truly taking it in. He had to survive, because that is what he does – but that is all he was doing. Surviving. Living? That wasn’t something he ever thought to do.

 

He had woken up in a world he didn’t belong in, alone, with no one to call his own, with no place to call home.

 

But then he found his family.

 

And yes, if you had told Steve Rogers of the 40s that he will find family in a man with anger management issues who sometimes turns into a green rage monster, a literal god from another planet, two super-assassins who know of 57 different ways to kill him with their pinky figure and a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist with arrogance levels that are off the charts and flies around in a metal suit of armour – well, he would punch you first and then advise you to check into the nearest mental institution.

 

And yet, somehow, in all this mess, he had managed to find a family.

 

And Steve was happy, he really was. He found people to love in the form of his rag-tag group of superheroes, he found a purpose in the form of the Avengers, he found a home in the big ugly building in the middle of Manhattan that soon became the warm feeling of a summer day to him.

 

So yes, Steve was happy. Soon, he stopped wallowing in self-pity. He stopped longing for the past, and instead started to embrace the future. He watched frankly outrageous sci-fi movies with the team every Thursday night – the night Tony and Clint had declared Avengers Movie Nights to Integrate Capsicle Into the World. He cooked dinner with Bruce every Friday night, swatting Tony’s hands away as he tried to steal bits of food from the pan. He made blueberry pancakes for Tony every morning, standing guard over them until Tony emerged from his lab so that Clint would not steal some away. He ordered dozens of boxes of pop tarts every day, because a Thor without pop tarts is a grumpy Thor, and no one wants to see a grumpy Thor around. He is like a little golden retriever.

 

As their family grew, the anchor that was holding Steve in the past weakened. There were morning runs with Sam, the incredulous happiness that flowed through his veins every time he shouted, “on your left!” There was training with Wanda, and teaching Vision how to cook. Tony was in the Compound more days than not, and that meant lab time with Tony where he did nothing but sit on the couch and sketch, letting Tony ramble happily about whatever he was working on.

That’s not to say the anchor completely went. Some days, Steve woke up in the morning and thought he could smell Peggy’s perfume – that ridiculously fancy one she always managed to conjure up, even during the war. Sometimes, he would close his eyes and he would see Bucky’s laughing face, or Dum-Dum’s maniac laugh and at that moment all he would wish for is a chance to back.

 

That was the problem – Steve had a family there, and he has a family here, and he doesn’t want to leave either.

 

But then Steve lost that family, lost his home, lost Tony.

 

And then he gained them again.

 

In those 22 days it took for Tony to come back, all Steve wished for was to see Tony, alive. Steve promised to every deity in the universe that he would want for nothing else, so long as he gets to see Tony again. He wouldn’t ache for the past; he wouldn’t wish for a second chance. He would take Tony as he finds him – accept the hatred and the bitter words as long as Tony is alive.

 

Steve is a liar though, just like Tony said, because Steve couldn’t expect it. He saw a second chance, and he needed it.

 

And it cost him everything.

 

_Nat –_ who he didn’t even get to say goodbye to.

 

_Tony – oh god, Tony_.

 

So, when Steve turns away from the lake in which they had just sent Tony Stark’s heart off to, he was prepared to turn away from this place and never look back.

 

Bruce was taking off tomorrow, to god knows where, in pursuit of solidifying the harmony between himself and the Hulk he had been chasing after for years.

 

Thor was going with the Guardians, exploring space with a freedom he was never afforded the luxury of.

 

Clint was going back to his family, as he should.

 

Sam was strong, Sam was good, and Sam doesn’t need him. Not anymore.

 

And Bucky – well, Bucky has Sam. He would have stayed for Bucky, but he doesn’t know how much use he would be. Bucky doesn’t want the fight anymore, wants to get as far away from it as possible. Steve? He doesn’t know how to live without one.

 

In the moments it takes for him to be thrust back to the past, he says one last goodbye and takes off.

He gets spotted by the Tony Stark of 2012, a confused “Cap?” making him turn just as he was about to go away.

 

He turns, because he never thought he would see him again.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in DC?” Tony asks, his forehead creasing.

 

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I just wanted to talk to you before I go.”

 

“What’s up, dear Captain,” Tony says with his trademark smirk.

 

_He’s nervous,_ Steve thinks, because he knows all of Tony’s ticks now.

 

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Steve says, “for what I said that day on the Hellcarrier. I was wrong.”

 

“It’s no biggie,” Tony says nonchalantly, though his eyes display the vulnerability he tries too hard to hide. “We both said things we didn’t mean. I’m sorry for that too, by the way. I was out of line.”

 

Steve smiles at him, looking at him with a burning intensity. “Tony Stark,” he says, mustering up every ounce of confidence in his being, “you are a better man than us all. Never forget that.”

 

He doesn’t wait for Tony’s answer.

 

* * *

 

 

The next stop is Vormir for the soul stone, leaving 1970 for last. As he makes the rickety path to the edge of the cliff, he feels a pain settle in his bones – one that he has become acutely familiar with in the last couple of years in particular.

 

This whole time, he hasn’t really had a chance to mourn Natasha, not really. They had been thrust into the fight, had to keep going to bring everyone back because that is what Natasha would have wanted. Nat gave up her life, and they needed to win – win, so that her sacrifice didn’t go in vain. And when they had won? They lost Tony, and that grief had punched every last shred of his being out of him.

 

Now though, walking down the path Steve knows was Natasha’s last, Steve finally lets himself grieve. He lets the crippling sadness overcome him, lets himself mourn the first and most true friend he had made in the 21stcentury, at a time he didn’t think he ever could, again. His knees gave way, and he dropped on the dirty ground, his body heaving with sobs.

 

That is how Red Skull found him.

 

“My, my,” a disembodied voice came from above him. “how the mighty have fallen.”

Steve looks up, his blue eyes icy as he takes in the sight of his long-lost foe.

 

“I have come to return the soul stone,” Steve says, his voice steady. Always steady, because he is Captain America, even if he doesn’t want to be anymore.

 

“You banished me to a fate worse than death,” Red Skull says, as if he didn’t hear Steve. “I am going to enjoy watching your pain.”

 

His face – or lack thereof – forms into what Steve would think of as an eerie smile.

 

“In order to retrieve the soul stone,” Red Skull continued, “you must sacrifice the one you love. In order to return it,” Red Skull fixes his mocking eyes on Steve, “you must face the one you love.”

 

_Peggy._

Of course, it would be Peggy. That’s okay, he is going to see her again, soon, anyway.

 

“I accept,” he says, his voice unwavering.

 

Red Skull looks amused. “Very well, Captain. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

There is a bright orange light suddenly, a thick fog wrapping around Steve. A figure emerges from the fog.

 

_“Steve?”_ the voice comes and oh god, Steve knows that voice. Knows it so well, because he has been hearing it in his head every day for five years.

 

“ _Tony,”_ he whispers, and everything slots into place.

 

Of course, it is Tony.

 

It could only ever be Tony.

 

Tony’s figure emerges completely from the thick fog.

 

“What are you…? You’re returning the stones aren’t you?” he asks, confused. “The soul stone? Why am I here, then?”

 

Steve needs to tell him – needs to, because this is the only chance he is ever going to get.

 

“In order to retrieve the soul stone,” he says, his voice wavering, “you have to sacrifice the one you love. In order to return it,” he takes a deep breath. His voice croaks as he continues. “In order to return it, you must face the one you love.” He smiles at Tony, the movement seeming almost foreign to him. “You.”

 

Tony stares at him for a long moment.

 

“How long?” he asks, softly. “Steve, how long?”

 

Tony’s deep brown eyes are piercing, and Steve is struck for a moment because he looks so _alive._ Not the kind of alive he was back in 2012, and definitely not how he was in 2023, seconds before he died. No, this Tony is young, he isn’t carrying the burden of the world on his shoulders anymore. He looks more relaxed, his eyes having a twinkle he very seldom saw in him, in all the years they had known each other. This Tony looked happy, in the truest meaning of the world.

 

It made sense, to be honest.

 

The world had never been kind to Tony Stark, after all.

 

“I don’t know,” Steve answers honestly. “A while, I think. Years, probably. But I didn’t know, not until now.”

 

“Years,” Tony whispers, though to whom Steve does not know. “Jesus, Steve – years.” The look on Tony’s face is desperate.

 

“ _Steve,_ ” Tony says again, and his name from Tony’s lips sounds like honey. “ _Steve,_ _I’ve always loved you_.”

 

Steve couldn’t stop the first sob that erupted out of him – _they could have had it all._

Tony comes next to him in lightning speed, his arms wrapping Steve in a warm hug. He doesn’t think he has ever hugged Tony. It’s nice. Another thing he could have had, if he wasn’t so stupid.

 

“I’ve got you, baby,” Tony whispers in his ear, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I’ve got you.”

 

“No,” Steve says, still sobbing. “No, because you’re gone. You’re gone, Tony.”

 

Tony looks sad as he answers: “I know. I wish I wasn’t, I wish I could have stayed with you, with all of you – but I can’t. So you’ll have to do it for me. Promise me you’ll do it for me.”

 

Steve looks at Tony, and in that moment, he doesn’t understand how he could have ever thought he wasn’t in love with this man.

 

“Morgan – she’s so little. Make sure she remembers her old man, okay? Make sure she’s always happy. And Peter – he’s seen so much. He’s seen so many people leave him. Be there for him, okay? Look after him, make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”

 

“I promise,” Steve says, because how could he ever deny Tony anything?

 

Tony presses his forehead against Steve’s. For a minute, they just sit there, breathing in each other’s scent. Steve runs his hand over Tony’s face, tries to memorise every contour, how every breath he takes sounds.

 

“I love you,” Tony whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Never forget that.”

 

“I-“ Steve starts, but Tony’s gone.

 

* * *

 

 

When Peggy opens the door, Steve feels almost complete.

 

Almost, but not quiet.

 

“Steve,” Peggy says, her eyes welling up with tears. “ _Steve.”_

There was a time when Steve loved hearing his name come out of Peggy’s rouge lips, but it doesn’t sound right, now. Not anymore.

 

He lets Peggy pull him into a hug, lets himself hold her too. He could have this, have her in his arms for the rest of his life.

 

_But you don’t want to_ , a voice inside his head tells him.

 

Steve breaks down crying, Peggy cradling his head to her chest.

 

“Talk to me,” she whispers into his ear.

 

And so, Steve tells her everything.

 

Peggy stays quiet for a long moment, after he is done.

 

“You’re not staying, are you?” her voice is firm, and he knows she already knows the answer.

 

“No,” he agrees, “No, I am not.”

 

Peggy cradles his face in her palms. “You’re a good man, Steve,” she says. Steve nods, and then presses the button to go home.

 

* * *

 

 

Afterwards, after he had let Peter rest his head on Steve’s shoulders and let himself finally cry, finally let out the pain he was feeling of losing another father, after he had tucked Morgan into bed and Morgan had whispered a quiet “I love you, 2000, because I only love Daddy 3000 but you’re close too,” – after all that, he had finally let himself settle on the couch in Tony’s workshop, cradling an Iron Man helmet to his chest. He had pressed a kiss to the top of the helmet, whispering one thing over and over again.

 

_“I love you, too.”_

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I'm going to put it out to the world and hope Tony knows - Tony Stark, I love you 3000 :) 
> 
> scream at me on Tumblr: starsinourinfinities


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